The Great Egg Hunt
by Inconnu
Summary: [SORATO] Sora and Yamato, coworkers and best friends are paired together for the company’s annual Easter egg hunt. This year, the employees have decided to play matchmaker and a pair of handcuffs come into play... [ONE SHOT]


**Summary: **Sora and Yamato, coworkers and best friends are paired together for the company's annual Easter egg hunt. This year, the employees have decided to play matchmaker and a pair of handcuffs come into play…

Really a **PG** friendly story, the **PG-13** rating is only for a small portion near the end.

Please excuse the title, hehehehehehe…

**Disclaimer:** Digimon is not mine.

* * *

**The Great Egg Hunt  
By Inconnu**

"Shoot!"

"Shoot!"

"Shoot!"

"Shoot!"

"Shoot!"

"Damn!" Yamato groaned and held up his fist accusingly. "You understand that rock should really beat paper. What kind of paper can envelope a rock like that—"

"Stop being bitter, Yama," said his companion who was leaning back on the subway seat with a smug look on her fair features. Other passengers of the New York City morning commute cast the two curious glances.

The blond man raised an incredulous brow. "I am _not_ the one who wouldn't get out of bed this morning," he teased. "I don't understand why I have to explain to the boss why we're late."

"Beauty sleep is important!" she defended earning a scoff.

"It doesn't look like it's helping you, Sora."

"Well all those hours you spend in front of the bathroom mirror applying hair gel doesn't seem to be helping either, Yama," she threw back.

Yamato's handsome features contorted into that of such horrification that Sora couldn't hold in her peals of laughter.

She patted him affectionately on the head—an act that they both knew he would only allow her. "Don't worry, you're still sexy."

"I know, I had that awesome threesome last night," he said, wiggling his brows playfully.

"Is that why I couldn't get any sleep? And I thought that the volume of your porn was too loud."

Yamato smirked, sat back, and stretched his legs, receiving a few disgusted looks from the people standing, pressed up against each other and sharing body odor.

The two had been best friends since high school and did practically everything together. They went to prom together, attended the same university and now they were in their late twenties, co-workers sharing a small two-bedroom apartment in the midst of Manhattan. It would be a lie if the subject of dating never crossed Yamato's mind.

"Yamato Ishida, get off your lazy ass!"

He looked up, her voice snapping him out of his musings. Sora stood by the compartment doors of the F train, holding them open while looking increasingly vexed at Yamato. He shot up in an instant, pushed and squeezed his way out of the train, and stumbled hastily onto the 23rd street station platform. "Thanks darling, holding the doors open for me like that," said Yamato, draping an arm across her shoulders casually as if nothing out of the ordinary happened.

She glared, but didn't shake off his hand. "You're a lucky one, Ishida."

"I know; it comes with the charm."

"You are _definitely_ explaining our tardiness to Mr. Jung," Sora mumbled as they made their way up the subway stairs and onto the sidewalk.

He held up his hands, "I'm not even the reason—"

"No, but you _did_ lose our little rock, paper, scissor match in the train and I _did_ hold the train doors open for you." She held up her arm to show Yamato the evidence of her thoughtfulness: a large black smear on her arm. "I would've left you on the train if I didn't need you to explain to Mr. Jung."

"Jung's not going to like us being late on Easter."

"Jung doesn't like _anyone_ being late on Easter."

Yamato took a moment to stretch his arms and breathe in the air. It wasn't the cleanest air in the world, being in New York City, but it was home nonetheless. He turned to smile at his companion but came face to face with a small girl and her mother, who was sending him looks of disdain. They crossed the street faster than a scared guinea pig.

"Yamato _Ishida_!"

Yamato spun around in the direction of the voice and sent his best friend an apologetic grin as he spotted her, light pink blouse and all. "Sorry, sorry," he chanted when he ran up to where she stood. "I turned around and you were gone."

"I saw." By her tone, Yamato suspected that she had seen the small incident. "I'm beginning to understand why you don't date."

"What? Why?" Yamato asked. They walked down the street in a casual pace, watching the cars and buses pass, their voices rivaling against the busy traffic.

"Because you're into little girls," said Sora matter-of-factly.

Yamato laughed. "That must be it." He paused before venturing on, "Then what about you?"

"What about me, what?"

"Why don't you date?"

"Who says I'm not?" she answered with a coy look in her eyes. Sora opened the building door widely with her right hand and ushered the blond in with her left.

Once they stepped into the polished marble lobby, Yamato rounded on his heel to stare at the auburn headed woman. She stared right back, not bothered in the least with his intense gaze. After looking at those cobalt eyes of his since high school, she had long ago learned to keep her nerves under control. "You're… not really dating, right?"

Sora blinked, caught off guard by her best friend's uncharacteristic… sincerity? Concern? Uneasiness? Whatever it was, she couldn't put her finger on it, but soon dismissed the thought and rolled her eyes. "Do you really think I wouldn't tell you if I was dating?" she threw over her shoulder as she made her way towards the elevators. "I think you have bigger things to worry about," she pressed the up arrow; a red light lit up under the silver button, "like how Jung is going to kill us."

"Relax. Jung loves us," said Yamato calmly, sounding more like himself.

"No, Jung loves _you_. I only got this job because you recommended me," She mumbled as her eyes fixated upon the blinking numbers above the elevator doors.

"Trust me Sora, Jung thinks you're great. He's never given so many promotions to an employee so quickly. Besides, if that doesn't make you feel any better just remember, it's Easter, we're not even supposed to be at work."

"What are you talking about, you know Easter is the one day we _can't_ be late."

A melodic _ding_ signified the elevator's arrival and the smooth metal doors swooshed open. Sora rushed in, followed quickly by Yamato. Employees of other companies in the building were excused for the day, but every Easter, Jung expected everyone to arrive on time if not early for their annual Easter egg hunt. It sounded silly, but the CEO, Mr. Jung, wasn't native to the U S of A and when he learned of the hunting of eggs on Easter, the idea appealed so much to him that it stayed with him through his college days and he decided to incorporate it into his company as well. He believed it to not only be fun, but a great way for the employees to bond together. Of course, if someone really _needed_ to take the day off, it was excused. Most of the employees however, made an effort to make it to work on Easter. It was just damn entertaining.

Sora tapped her foot impatiently, occasionally stopping to send glares at Yamato who was leaning casually against the handrails with his arms crossed over his chest in his "cool" stance. Some things from high school never change.

At long last, the elevator finally came to a halt on the 18th floor and the door slid opened at a painfully slow glide. The familiar gold lettering reading _Jung Advertising & Co. _greeted the couple as they rushed pass the glass double doors and made a bee line towards the large conference room. Sora's fingers closed around the smooth metal bar and she pushed against the door with such force, she stumbled right into the full room. Yamato strode in casually after her.

Sora bowed in front of Jung—a habit from Japan she was never able to rid of since childhood—and apologized quickly. She nudged Yamato lightly in the ribs, signaling that it was his moment to explain just why they were late.

Yamato raised a hand to his hair and scratched nervously as all eyes in the room fixed upon him and Sora. "Well you see… er… we're terribly sorry… but uh…"

Cinnamon red eyes rolled. Never trust a guy to apologize. They can't do it for the life of them. She nudged Yamato aside and stepped forward to face their employer. "You see Mr. Jung, we're very sorry for being late. It was my fault really, I had trouble getting out of bed, feminine problems, if you know what I mean."

Sora watched as her boss's features blanched momentarily before recovering quickly. He cleared his throat loudly and nodded. "You two must face the consequences of being late and forcing the entire company to start the celebration late as well."

"We're sorry."

He waved a hand, "I know you two are my best employees, don't do it again." Mr. Jung had a fairly tanned color of skin against his dark brown eyes and black hair. He was a chubby man around his mid 40's, single and most likely always going to be for the rest of his life, not that it bothered him in the slightest. He motioned to two reserved chairs, "Sit, I'll go over the rules now."

They hurriedly obliged.

"I've been informed that Lopez is in the hospital currently undergoing surgery. I've ordered a flower arrangement to be brought to the office and I'll leave it by the receptionist's desk. I expect everyone to sign the card attached during or after the hunt. A few of us will bring it over to the hospital afterwards, any objections?"

The only sound came from the squeak of Yamato's chair as he spun from left to right and back. Jung cleared his throat. "Right… right the rules. Well, there are some new rules this year. As you all know, the hunt is to be conducted in pairs and the plastic eggs are located in the offices, drawers, flower pots, bathrooms, anything. I shouldn't have to remind you all that my office is off limits. This year, in addition to those rules are a few others. One, each colored egg contains a dollar, unlike the years before when they held pieces of candy. The goal this time however, is not to get the most eggs, but to find the single _golden_ egg. Not to be confused with yellow, this one is covered with a ridiculous amount of glitter. One golden egg means a raise for both of you—oh, and it has candy inside it. Might I remind you all to respect each other's privacy. The hunt will end when the golden egg is found, somewhat like Harry Potter and quidditch. Any questions?"

This time, the only sound came from Yamato's repeated clicking of his pen. Sora promptly slapped his hand.

Jung shook his head, deciding that he would never be able to understand the two. It was a known fact that Yamato hadn't been as playful and easygoing (but of course hardworking still) until Sora came to work in the firm. Before she came to work, three years ago, Yamato was infamous for being a strict and painfully hard working employee, one of the things that earned him his current position in the company after seven years. He was still diligent as ever, but now he was noticeably happier, a welcomed change. Whatever it was, everyone could see that Sora was his tonic, antidote, medicine, for everything except, Sora herself.

That woman was clueless, which was a little hard to believe seeing how brilliant and clever she was. That man craved to be around her, couldn't be away from her, he was in love and there was no cure for that. Whenever the topic arose that Sora would travel out of the state or country to meet with other companies, Yamato always volunteered to go with her to "oversee things." Actually, whenever the topic arose that had anything to do with Sora, Yamato would be sure to volunteer.

"Yamato, Sora, you two were twenty minutes late so you will start a full forty minutes after everyone—" said Jung.

"That's not so bad," Yamato whispered to Sora out of the corner of his lips.

"—handcuffed."

Sora shot a horrified look at the blond and then at Mr. Jung, standing happily at the head of the long conference table. Did she hear right? Handcuffed? Apparently her hearing was fine since Jung continued on obliviously, pulling out a pair of handcuffs from only God knows where. Most of her peers were trying to hide their snickering, and a few were covering their amusement with wild coughs, but Sora was ignorant of it all as the shock sunk in. She glanced at Yamato, hating the way he looked so composed, and frowned.

Jung tossed the offending piece of metal onto the table with a loud _clank_. Sora swallowed loudly as her eyes scanned the pair of handcuffs. This has got to be some cruel joke, she thought wildly and was just about to open her mouth to say just that before Nancy, one of her friends interjected.

"Oh Sora, don't complain about it. You _did_ delay us and you have to admit, being handcuffed with _that_," her head tilted meaningfully in Yamato's direction, "can't possibly be considered punishment."

Correction, thought Sora, _ex_-friend.

Well, the last thing Sora would want was for her co-workers to all think she was some whiny thing who couldn't take "punishment," or whatever word was more suited for the light penalty. Fine then, she'd take responsibility for whatever time was wasted, even if the consequences were odd beyond words. If Yamato could sit there and look smug, she damn well could too.

Sora didn't quite _sit_ there and look smug, but rather before anyone had realized what had happened, she reached out, grabbed the handcuffs and promptly fastened her right hand to Yamato's left. "There," she announced, missing the looks her co-workers exchanged.

Yamato broke out in a wide, boyish grin. "Darling, I didn't know you were _that_ eager to handcuff me!"

Sora stared at the modern clock on the wall. 11:32am. Only 38 more minutes left, she summarized. The game started and everyone had already long ago rushed out with their partners in search of the colored eggs and one special golden egg. Sora sat back in her chair and was just about to cross her arms over her chest when she was reminded of a weight attached to her right hand. She raised a brow accusingly at her partner. "Were you going to just let me cross my arms with your hand tagging along?"

He gave her the same boyish smirk that had made the girls swoon in high school and college—heck, it _still_ made the girls (now women) swoon. All except of course, Sora.

"Shameless," she said with a shake of her head.

Yamato said nothing as he stretched out languidly in the cushioned chair, bringing his arms—and Sora—up. Her chair rolled into his and her head came to rest on his shoulder with a thud.

"Heavens, couldn't you at least be a little more considerate?" she mumbled, but made no move to straighten up.

Yamato smirked. "I don't think _I'm_ the shameless one. Just look at you, pressing up against me like that. You better hope that no one walks in on us." He brought his hands down to link together behind his head for support and at the same time, forcing Sora to bend her arm in a most awkward angle. But it was okay; Sora was double jointed. Growing up together, he was always fascinated by all the odd angles of which her arms could maneuver into.

She yawned lazily and if anything, leaned further against him. "If I'm going to sit here for forty minutes, I might as well be comfortable. Besides, everyone knows we're best friends."

Yamato's smile dropped a fraction at Sora's casual disregard. He was crazy for her, but every time he tried his hand at intimacy, she would dismiss it platonically. To say it was frustrating would be an understatement. Was she not interested? Did she only want to be friends? He glanced down at her soft features, relaxed as she slept contently on his shoulder. She really _was_ tired, he mused, having gone to bed at around 4am. So diligent, she was engrossed in her work and the dating concept slipped further and further away from her mind. Yamato's smile widened as another thought entered his head: the coy thing was just too dense to know she was wanted. He sighed wistfully before settling further back in his chair, making sure not to wake her but at the same time, moving to support more of her weight on his shoulder; then again, he really didn't have to worry about her waking—Sora could sleep through earthquakes.

**§**

When William Jung entered the near empty conference room thirty-four minutes later to free the two caged birds, he found them snugly in their chairs, heads leaning against one another. He stood for a moment, considering whether to wake them or to rush into his office, grab his camera, take a picture, and _then_ wake the couple. The door closed quietly behind him with the barest of _clicks_.

"Pity, I was having a nice dream," came a deep voice.

Jung gave a small knowing smile, "Were you? I would have thought _this_ was your dream."

"Did you do this on purpose?"

"Your forty minutes have elapsed, you two may begin."

Yamato stared at his superior skeptically for a moment before an unspoken understanding came over the two. He smiled and wordlessly looked over at the auburn-headed woman by his side, shaking her lightly on the shoulder.

Sora only groaned and nudged her head against the base of his neck. "Mmm, you smell good," she mumbled not so coherently.

Jung watched from the doorway and arched a brow. Yamato, it seems, had lost all willpower to wake her and was currently grinning like a schoolboy. Deciding that he didn't want to know what was going through the other man's mind, he cleared his throat loudly. "Sleeping on the job, eh?" he boomed.

Sora shot up in her chair, unfortunately bringing the top of her head right into Yamato's chin. He groaned and cursed lightly under his breath.

"Hi Mr. Jung…" She began awkwardly, "I was just… resting my eyes…"

"Right, of course you were."

"You were just being dead weight on my shoulder is all," Yamato said hotly while making a great show of rubbing his chin.

"Oh Yama, be a man, stop complaining," scoffed Sora.

Jung cleared his throat again, "I thought you'd like to know that your forty minutes are up."

"They are? How nice!" And with that, Sora quickly said goodbye to her baffled boss and rushed out of the conference room with Yamato dragging along like a lost pet.

They headed straight towards his spacious corner office. Yamato's office had one of the nicest views of the city available in the building and was able to take full advantage of it with the floor-to-ceiling windows. A large, modern, glass desk stood in the center of the room as shelves full of documents aligned the walls. A few co-workers where there when they stepped through the glass doors and Yamato's features instantaneously dropped upon seeing a few of them touch and comment on a picture of Sora and himself on display. Anyone who knew Yamato knew that insisted on privacy; the moment his glare made contact with the nosy co-workers, they headed straight for the door and were never heard from again.

"Why here first?" Yamato asked once the room was cleared and the doors locked. (Not to mention the shades pulled down.)

"My wrist, it hurts."

"Let me see it."

"No, it's just the handcuffs. I put it on too tightly—not a word, Ishida," she warned when the blond opened his mouth to comment.

He smartly closed his mouth and walked around his desk and pulled open a drawer. Sora watched curiously as his smile widened and he placed several paper clips on the stable glass with light tinkling followed by a light blue plastic egg.

"Would you look at that," breathed Sora. "I'm surprised it's still there considering all the people who were just in here."

Yamato faltered, certain that they weren't in his office for _egg_ searching purposes. "Well, they know how much I like my privacy. They probably just didn't want to face my wrath when I catch them snooping through my drawers."

"But—"

"Will you hold still, I need to pick the lock."

Sora stuck out her right hand rigidly. "I always knew your mischievous high school tricks would come in handy one day," she teased.

Yamato shot her a look before bending over the lock again. "I'll have you know I was a model student."

"Who are you trying to kid, Yama? I went to high school _with_ you. But I guess in a way you were a _model_ student. I admit you were definitely one of the better catches out there; smart, funny, and not to mention pretty good-looking—"

"Darling, if you want to ask me out, just get to it." Though he wouldn't admit it, Sora's words made him _feel_ like a hormonally active high school boy all over again.

"Don't flatter yourself, I'm not done. You see, _unfortunately_ you don't age like wine and I'm sorry to inform you that your assets have been steadily decreasing. In fact, I'm sure that if you don't settle down by next year, no one may want you!"

"In that case I'll have to marry you."

"What makes you think I won't be taken and madly in love by then?"

"Because I know you. If I have until next year, then Sora, you only have a few months."

"Fine then, we'll strike a deal."

"What deal?"

"If we're both not married by the age of 35, we'll get married."

"That sounds familiar."

"I saw it on _Friends_."

"Well okay, I'm game."

"Really?"

"Yeah, I might as well."

"You sound like you're settling."

"Sora Takenouchi, if neither of us are married by the age of 35, I would be more than honored to marry you." A light click was heard from the handcuffs and a moment later, the piece around Sora's right wrist separated.

She rubbed her chafed skin gingerly. "Well good, you better be."

"Stop rubbing your wrist like that, it's only going to get worse," said Yamato as he reached out to still her hand.

"I wish I didn't act so brash," she mumbled, allowing him to hold her hand and examine her wrist. Sora's eyes widened when he began to massage the irritated spot with his fingers. "Where did you learn to do that?"

He shrugged, "One of my many talents."

"It feels nice."

"I know, all the girls tell me."

"Well how come you didn't give me a massage before?"

"I'm giving you one now, right?"

"Yeah, but how come you gave _other_ girls massages before me?"

Yamato raised a brow and smirked as his fingers continued to knead the raw flesh. "Jealous, darling?"

"Of course not, I'm just wondering where my free massages went."

"Oh you know… some here, some there."

"Terrible."

He laughed. "Do you want to continue searching my office for more eggs?"

"Yeah, I think that'll be a good."

"Handcuffs or no?"

"Handcuffs. I'm not going to escape a penalty by picking a lock. We should do complete this in handcuffs to show responsibility."

"Sora, ever the righteous one," teased Yamato as he gently clasped the handcuff around her right wrist once again. "Then again, I can understand if you enjoy being hand—"

"Not another word," she warned and with the exception of the light snicker that came from Yamato, a comfortable silence settled.

They began going through the rest of the drawers as soon as they were attached to each other again. Sora frowned at the lack of personal items in Yamato's office. Besides a photograph of his family, a larger photograph of their childhood friends at a picnic under a large maple tree, and a few pictures of her and Yamato together (it didn't cross her mind that it was a little odd Yamato possessed the most pictures of her, being best friends of course), there was little else that told of the man. Sora paused in her searching (Yamato grunted at this) and reached out to pick up the frame that held a picture of their friends.

"You know," she began thoughtfully as Yamato fished through the drawers with his free hand.

"Yeah?" he prompted without looking up.

"They always said we'd get together."

He lifted his head and smiled upon seeing Sora holding the familiar picture.

"I think they were making bets," she continued to muse.

"Really?"

"They said they were disappointed that we never got together."

"They weren't the only ones," mumbled Yamato under his breath.

Sora went on, not hearing her companion's comment. "A lot of people wrote some comments along that line in my yearbook."

"Mine too," said Yamato, stretching out his arms and straightening his back. He moved to the bookshelves with Sora struggling to put down the frame before she was pulled away. "Are you hinting at something?" he teased, searching behind more photographs that were displayed on the shelf.

Sora blinked. "Huh? No. I actually never thought about it. It was just seeing that photo reminded me of high school." But now Sora _was_ thinking about it and the more she thought about it, the more pleasant the idea of dating Yamato seemed. She mentally began ticking off the pros: they obviously knew each other well and got along perfectly (even if there was that "crossing the friendship line" thing to consider), Yamato _was_ handsome, and funny, and charming, and smart, and—

He tapped her head with a pale green plastic egg.

That's got to be a con, thought Sora while shooting an annoyed look at the blond. He grinned, and suddenly, she wasn't so sure if it was a con anymore.

"Sorry to break your inner monologue, your highness, but I thought you'd like to know I found another egg. With no help from you," he said, adding the latter as an afterthought while pocketing the egg.

"Should we search the rest of the office?" asked Sora, her cinnamon gold eyes scanning the rest of the room.

Yamato began ushering them to the door. "No, I'm sure that Jung's not nice enough to leave more than two in my office. He knows we're the only ones who searches through it."

"Yeah, because you're so antisocial."

"It only makes me more mysterious, darling."

They walked along the corridor with Sora giving friendly greetings to the pairs they passed and Yamato, meticulous as ever, checking flowerpots for any missed eggs. He ducked his head into the men's bathroom when they passed it and did a quick scan. "We should check the bathroom later."

Sora's lips formed a sly smirk, "_Which_ bathroom?"

He glanced at her quizzically, "What do you mean, we always—oh."

"Wow Yama, you must be really comfortable being handcuffed to me, seeing as you've already forgotten about it."

"Yeah, maybe we should do it again sometime," he replied, wiggling his brows suggestively.

They passed the receptionist's desk with a large flower arrangement and a card sitting upon it. Colossal daffodils, lilies, and daisies of all colors were arranged together, accented with baby's breath and assorted green leaves.

"Should we sign it now, or on the way back?" Sora asked, absentmindedly tweaking around the flower arrangement.

"On the way back. Let's get to your desk first."

Sora wasn't blessed with a large corner office like Yamato, but instead worked at one of the larger cubicles, divided by reasonably tall makeshift walls, which the entire maze was constructed of. Her corner desk was neat and lightly cluttered with a few modest photographs, plus a small collecting row of stuffed animals Yamato always gave her come every Valentine's Day.

He picked up one of the fist-sized toys and gave it a good squeeze. "I still don't understand why you keep these," he said, not telling her about the great sense of pride that came with the knowledge that she did so.

She snatched the stuffed animal away from him and set it gently down with its "friends," being sure to pat it a few times on the head. "Don't do that to Bob, and for your information, I like them."

"They just kind of came with the roses, I didn't think you'd start collecting them."

Sora smiled gleefully, recalling how it felt every year to receive two dozen roses from the most eligible man in the company—who cares if it was only because they were best friends? Flowers from a guy were flowers from a guy.

Yamato only laughed, shook his head, and reached out a hand to try one of Sora's drawers. It rocked slightly but didn't budge. "You know Jung doesn't want us locking our drawers on Easter," he stated more than asked.

"I know, perfect chance for drawer inspections right? Good thing you got rid of all those dirty magazines in your drawers."

"Yeah, there were so many I didn't know what to do with it all."

Sora laughed as she poked around the wall shelves for any eggs; she frowned. "I guess there aren't any eggs here."

"There would have been if you didn't lock your drawers."

"Privacy, Yama, privacy. Of all people, you should understand. You're just lucky no one usually goes into your office since you're so mean."

"A second ago you said I was antisocial, now I'm lucky? Make up your mind, darling."

Sora stuck her tongue out, a reminder of their high school days and stepped out into the hallway, tugging Yamato along with her. "Come on, let's just go and sign that card."

"Where do we hit after that?" asked Yamato as he allowed Sora to lead him down the carpeted hall.

"Mmm… bathroom?"

"_Which _bathroom?"

"I guess it's only fair that we go into both bathrooms."

Yamato took in a deep breath of air and exhaled very slowly—which Sora found to be extremely comical. "Okay, after I write something down for the both of us."

"Why do you get to write? And why are you writing for the both of us?"

He gave her a look and lifted his left hand with her right hand dangling loosely in the metal cuff. "In case you've forgotten, darling, you're right handed. There's no way I'm going to let you drag me around every letter you write."

"You better write something nice."

"Don't worry," said Yamato, bending down over the card, picking up a pen and twirling it in his fingers—a trait he knew Sora was envious of.

She gave him her I'm-less-than-amused look and snatched up the card. It was a funky looking card with a picture of a dog with a monkey riding on its back. Sora lifted a brow and opened the card into a full 180 degrees as to make it more convenient for her partner to read it as well. "Hey, hope you get better soon," Yamato read aloud, "but until then, enjoy the things you see on medication." They smiled their I'm-a-little-bit-more-than-amused smile and the card was once more placed on the table, ready for written words of comfort.

As soon as Yamato finished, he began snickering. Sora's eyes narrowed suspiciously and she snatched up the card again, scanning the inside for Yamato's neat, manly script. Her eyes went to it immediately of their own accord and her lips curled into a lopsided smirk. She punched him on the shoulder as soon as she set the card down, "'Hey man, glad you took my advice and finally got that plastic surgery?'" she asked incredulously.

"But it made you laugh. Admit it, I was standing right here."

"Let's go to the bathrooms," Sora said loudly, changing the subject. A smile lingered on her lips as they headed towards the lavatories. She liked the way he had signed the note: "From Sora and Me." Of course, it would be no big mystery who "Me" was, but it was oddly satisfying to see them mentioned together like that. "Me," what a nice, personal word.

"Your highness, do I have to hold the door for the entire day, or just a few more minutes as you contemplate the world?" interrupted a deep voice.

"Oh, a few more minutes will do fine." She joked, flicking her wrist out at him.

Yamato's laugh echoed in the men's bathroom as he pushed her in with his left elbow.

The men's bathroom was plain, white, and surprisingly clean. Urinals aligned against the wall opposite the sinks and mirrors. Three stalls were built at the very back of the bathroom, not far from the urinals and sinks. Sora glanced around curiously, mostly checking to see if there were any people that she'd have to blackmail into keeping silent of her little adventure. She exhaled when the bathroom checked clear of any other signs of life. She turned to Yamato, eyebrows raised in an appreciative look, "I'm impressed, I guess men aren't really slobs."

"Darling, I thought living with me would prove that."

Sora paused and thought back to their small two bedroom apartment. It was true. Yamato always insisted on folding clothes neatly, putting everything back where they belonged, and he always, _always_ put the toilet seat down. If anything, _he_ cleaned up after _her_ most of the time, but then again, that was one of the things that made him so damn sweet. "Okay Yama, I'll give you that."

He puffed up his chest triumphantly and began walking towards the stalls with Sora hurrying to catch up to him.

"Wait, where are we going?" she asked.

Yamato stopped so suddenly that Sora, having just built up enough momentum to keep up, crashed into his side.

"Yamato!" she yelled in annoyance, rubbing her nose where it hurt from colliding into his stronger frame.

"Oops," he said lazily and gave her one of his sly grins.

Sora scoffed, "Whatever, why'd you stop?"

"You asked where we're going."

"Yes… and?"

"Thought you might want to know before we went in."

"In?"

He tilted his head towards the stalls, "We're going to have to search in the stalls, or did you forget that?"

Sora's dark cinnamon eyes darted from side to side and finally landed on the white sinks. She bit her lip. "I kind of forgot about the stalls."

He followed her gaze and laughed. "You thought we were going to just check the sinks? It's just a stall, darling, it's not like I'm asking you to stick your head in a urinal. I believe the stalls are unisex, right?"

"Okay, okay, just hurry up," she urged, hoping to get it over with as soon as possible.

Yamato stepped into the first stall and coughed loudly, which prompted Sora to shrink back, only to have him yank on the chain with so much force, she flew right into him. "_You're_ not going _anywhere_," said Yamato, putting emphasis on his words. "If I have to go to the women's bathroom later, you're going to have to go through the men's bathroom."

Sora pouted unlike her age and obediently stayed put in the stall, letting her eyes wander from anywhere _except_ the toilet. The outside might've been clean, but who knew what horrors awaited her _in_ the bowl. She even held her breath while admiring the sleek design of the door hinges until her companion cleared his throat. She looked up questioningly, cheeks puffed with air.

Yamato sighed, "Sometimes, I think we missed the whole 'maturing' stage of growing up." He flicked his head towards the stall door, "However much you might enjoy being in a stall with me, darling, I really must object. _I _for one, do not enjoy breathing sh—"

Sora sprinted out of the stall and released the air in her cheeks and lungs. She straightened and glared at Yamato, looking as cool and suave as usual. "First of all, maturity doesn't necessarily come with _age_, and second, _I_ had enough sense to hold my breath instead of breathing in wafts of sh—"

"The toilet was clean. I was just messing with you."

Sora glared at him, wishing she could wipe off his arrogant, I-know-I'm-sexy-_and_-better-than-you smirk.

"Gosh Yama, and you say _I'm _immature." Set on redeeming a little of her dignity, she took in a deep breath, straightened her posture, and walked to the second stall, dragging Yamato, who had suddenly become very unwilling to move. _Lazy bum_, thought Sora as she opened the door and stepped bravely—"God almighty!"

The stall door slammed open and Sora was outside the stall, hand on her knees, doubled over and greedily inhaling as much air as her lungs allowed her. "That… (gasp)… was the most… (gasp, then gagging)… revolting… (cough)… piece of…"

"Should've warned you about that."

_No wonder he didn't want to go in. _Now she _really_ wanted to wipe that smirk off his face—or more precisely, surgically remove it with_out_ anesthetics. The idea brought a smile to her lips.

"John's got a nasty digestive system and stall number two happens to be his favorite stall," Yamato continued, dismissing the devious uplift of Sora's lips. No doubt she was developing some wild fantasy where the lack of anesthetics was involved.

She blinked and turned to give him a dubious look, "You guys have favorite stalls?"

"Personally, I go for number three. Good amount of privacy, all the way in the back—"

"Shut up and go check your favorite stall for eggs."

He flashed her a boyish grin and dragged Sora (who was now _really_ unwilling to go into another stall) as far as she would allow. Dipping his head in, a small glimpse of pink hiding behind the toilet bowl caught his eye. He reached in with his right hand, and to his dismay, realized his arms weren't as long as he fathomed them to be. "Your highness, I need you to move in a bit in order to get the egg."

A few seconds later, Sora stuck her right arm into the stall, giving Yamato just enough reach to retrieve the small plastic egg. "Not trusting me? Darling, I'm hurt," he teased as soon as all their limbs were out of the stall and the egg safely in his pocket.

"Good," she threw back. Sora led the way out of the men's bathroom (after making sure the coast was clear) and pushed Yamato into the women's bathroom. Once inside, the blond found himself in a spacious sitting area, complete with mirrors and countertops all around. The walls were painted a rich red and bright lighting separated the full length mirrors.

He gawked. "_What_ in the world is _this_?"

Sora smirked and shrugged nonchalantly, "The women's bathroom."

"A _couch_? You have a _couch_?" Yamato said in disbelief, his voice raised an octave by the end of his words.

"If you keep that up, people are going to think you're going through puberty again."

He threw her a look. "This is the greatest injustice I have ever known."

As amusing it was to watch Yamato's feathers all ruffled over couches and bright lighting, Sora didn't know when it would end. She groaned and pushed him through the doorway to the sinks—

"IS THAT AN AUTOMATIC HAND DRYER?"

Sora laughed and pointed to the liquid soap dispensers. "We have _real_ soap too."

His cobalt blue eyes widened and like a child to a toy store window display, Yamato ran to the soap dispensers. "Is that… _scented_ soap?"

She nodded. "None of that cheap fowl smelling soap you guys are stuck with. I swear, every time one of you guys comes out of there… but then again, I suppose it's better than not smelling it at all…" She paused for a moment, running the thought through her mind before shaking her head. "Come on Yama, it doesn't look like there are any eggs in here, let's search the stalls."

The stall walls and doors were painted a nice rosy color that complimented the rich scarlet of the sitting room. Yamato opened a door and stuck his head inside, sniffing the air experimentally. "I smell Febreeze."

"That's because it is."

The pair turned in the direction of the feminine voice and watched as a petite blonde woman stopped in front of them.

"Hey Nancy, we didn't hear you come in," said Sora, glancing around for the other woman's partner.

"I didn't just come in…" she let the sentence fade. Openly declaring her use of a toilet didn't seem too attractive in front of a man who could melt hearts with a smile—even if he was already unquestionably devoted to a certain red head.

Sora nodded in understanding and soon after, began snickering loudly.

Nancy glanced at Yamato, who was suddenly very red in the face and caught onto Sora's mirth. "So Yamato… how's the women's bathroom treating you?"

"Did you hear him when he saw the automatic hand dryer?" Sora asked gleefully.

"Of course, I heard all that about the couches too. I'm sure the entire floor heard it."

"I'm pleased that the two of you find this injustice so entertaining." Yamato said hotly. "Didn't you need to wash your hands and find your partner, Nancy?"

She held up her hands defensively. "I can take a hint. Good luck you two," she said with a wink before walking off to the sinks.

"I hope you bruised my ego enough," whispered Yamato as they heard the faucet turn on. He wrinkled his nose when the hum of the automatic hand dryer echoed against the walls.

"Don't worry, Yama, if any man can look hot in a women's bathroom, yelling about automatic hand dryers, scented soap, and couches, you can," replied Sora. Nancy's heels could be heard slowly fading in the direction of the door until finally, it met with the creaking of the door and a click.

The pair soon checked all six stalls, one of them in which Yamato made contact with a few feminine items chucked into the convenient trash bin. Sora had positively sworn that the trash was emptied out and that it would only be _logical_ for someone to hide an egg there. Payback was a bitch. After their not-so-thorough inspection of the stalls, they were sporting sore backs from bending down to search corners and toilets. Their pains and aches had resulted in nothing from the women's bathroom.

"That's typical from women. You give them everything, bend over backwards and they screw you over," said Yamato bitterly.

Sora shot him a look as they headed in the direction of the bathroom door. "What are you talking about? Men are the ones that screw us over."

"What? No way, just look at me, nice guy wrapped in a handsome, irresistible package."

"Exactly. It makes it easy for guys like you to cheat."

"Yeah?"

She nodded, convinced. "You bet. But you're lucky I know you wouldn't do that stuff."

"Course not, you'd castrate me."

"Exactly." She placed her free hand on the door and pushed—only to have the door not budge in the slightest. "What the—" she wondered aloud, this time pushing against the door with her shoulder. Nothing happened. She stepped back and examined the offending door, her long fingers smoothing along any piece that looked out of the ordinary. "Is it… broken?"

Yamato rolled his eyes at the outrageous thought. "Stand back," he said, "Let a man do this." He smirked confidently, mimicked Sora's earlier actions, and his smile dropped. Persistent on keeping what little dignity was left, Yamato bend down to peer into the door crack. A piece of metal stood out and connected the door to the wall. "It's locked."

"You're kidding."

He shook his head. "We're locked in."

"How the hell does a bathroom door lock people in? The only way that can happen is if—"

"Someone locked us in."

They stared at each other as a quiet understanding was exchanged. Their eyes widened, minds slowly coming to terms with the situation. In an instant, they were beating against the bathroom door with their fists, yelling, "Let us out!" to anyone who was within the vicinity.

They continued their incessant pounding, unwilling to accept the fact that they had been locked in a bathroom by their co-workers, and too stubborn to sit there obediently in hope of someone coming in to free them. But they both knew that chances were, if someone intentionally locked them in, they weren't getting out anytime soon.

Sora struck the door one last time and groaned. "I don't understand why they're doing this," she murmured.

Yamato raised a brow; _he_ had a pretty good idea why. "Come on, it's not _that _bad, locked in the women's bathroom with _me_. I'd say you lucked out."

Secretly, Sora agreed, but there was no way she would let him know. The man didn't need any more inflating of his ego. "I think we ought to search for eggs again," she suggested instead.

"Again?"

"I don't think we really did a good job of searching the bathroom."

"I think we did a _fine_ job."

"All right then, we can sit on the couch until someone comes."

Her tone sounded reproachful, but when Yamato glanced at her, she wore the same smile she always did when she spoke to him. It was a mix between amusement and annoyance, something he had grown used to. "Sounds good," he said, giving a small nod and strutting over to where the cream colored couch waited. He sat down heavily, dragging his red headed companion down in succession. "I still think it's unfair."

"What is?" came Sora's voice as she brought her legs up onto the seating and leaned up against the blond as a makeshift pillow.

With her head against his shoulder, her silken strands tickling his skin and intoxicating his senses with her soft jasmine scent, it was hard for Yamato to concentrate. "What's what?"

Sora pushed herself up with her arms to turn and regard her best friend with an amused expression. "What's not fair?"

His hand came to wrap around her shoulders, bringing her back into her previous position against his shoulder. It might've been hard to concentrate, but hell, concentration was a decent sacrifice while locked in the women's bathroom with the woman of his dreams. "That the women's bathroom gets a couch," he stated easily.

"Well too bad, get used to it." A few minutes of silence passed between the two before she spoke again. "I wish I had my iPod."

He snorted. "Why would you need an iPod when I'm here?" he looked at her accusingly and said, "Are you saying I'm boring? That hurts, right here," while motioning to his chest. "Besides," he continued when Sora showed a lack of interest, "the iPod is a rip off."

She flipped around to stare at him looking positively shocked as if he had offended her mother; the tips of her auburn hair whipped him in the face. "The iPod is _not_ a rip off!"

"How is it not?" Yamato egged on.

"Okay first, it holds _tons_ of music—"

"That you'll never listen to."

"—that I _do_ listen to. My 20GB are almost used up."

"How many of those songs do you listen to?"

"All of them!" she replied hotly.

Yamato laughed. "Continue, please."

"Besides its great memory space, the design is very convenient—"

"Mm, I know how inconvenient normal buttons can be these days."

"—it's just so damn good looking!"

"Sora's shallow side finally reveals itself."

She rolled her eyes and elbowed him lightly. "Well let me listen to yours," she demanded, holding out her palm expectantly.

Yamato sighed (but he couldn't help the smile that spread across his lips) as he reached into his right jacket pocket and pulled out the slim mp3 player. When he handed it to Sora, he distinctively heard her mutter, "hypocrite" under her breath. "Hey, I only bought it because you wouldn't shut up about it."

"I thought you'd be happy about that since you're the one who bought it for me for my birthday."

He smiled. "I am." A chuckle escaped his lips, "I guess you wouldn't be in this business if you couldn't sell an iPod."

"Exact—hey, you dropped something." Sora reached out with her left hand and picked up a familiar leather wallet with worn edges and its color long since faded away. It had most likely fallen out of Yamato's pocket as he was retrieving the iPod. Her ruby colored eyes lit up with mirth, "I can't believe you're still using this," she said, absentmindedly flipping the wallet back and forth.

"Ah, what can I say, I like it."

"I bought this for you in high school! What was it for, Christmas?"

"My birthday."

A devious glint passed in Sora's eyes momentarily and she pried open the wallet slowly. Yamato watched as she fingered through the multiple receipts he kept and finally came to the cash, which she then pocketed easily.

"Does this mean you're buying me dinner then?"

She scoffed. "With twenty dollars? I don't think so."

His eyes followed her every movement, watching as her slender fingers found its way to the wallet sized photo. He made no move to stop her, wondering if she'd finally take a hint.

"Yama! You really shouldn't keep a picture of us in your wallet. What if you meet someone and she takes this the wrong way?"

He stifled a groan; she really wasn't very good at taking hints. "I think I'll live. So Sora, how about dinner?"

"How about it?"

"You've robbed me, it's only right that you feed me now, seeing that I have no money."

"I already told you, not on twenty dollars."

He licked his lips, daring to be bolder. "What about just dinner then? I'll buy."

"Why are you making this sound so 'official'? It's not like we've never eaten dinner together before."

"But I'm offering to buy."

"You usually end up buying anyways. You're making this sound like a—" Sora stopped in mid sentence just as the lights went out with a faint click. Darkness enveloped the two suddenly and the only light came from the crack of the bathroom door, a tiny bright streak reaching in to illuminate anything it could. Sora's heartbeat thundered in her ears and every breath felt as if it were wrenched crudely from her body. Her eyes swiveled blindly in the dark before finally focusing on the small amount of light seeping through.

"Shit."

Sora's hand found Yamato's; she looked up at him with a meek smile he could barely make out and if possible, scooted even closer.

His baritone laugh rang out in the bathroom and Sora could feel his body shaking with the laughter. "Sora Takenouchi, are you trying to take advantage of me in the dark?"

"I'm just waiting for my eyes to adjust to the dark, that's all," she explained. She knew he was teasing her for her… _dislike_ of the dark, as she preferred it to be called. It wasn't a morbid fear, but thanks to one too many horror movies in her childhood, the absolute pitch darkness always did make her uneasy. So it wasn't really a lie, she really was waiting for her eyes to adjust.

"Is anyone there?" called Yamato. He waited until the echo of his voice faded before trying again. "Someone let us out! The fuse blew out and it's just a LITTLE hard to see!" he stood, pulling a reluctant Sora along with him and began pounding on the door. The hinges shook from the force. "Help! Sora's trying to take advantage of me!"

Her hand immediately met his shoulder in a painful slap that resonated off the walls. "What are you doing?" she hissed.

He rubbed his shoulder gingerly. "Well you weren't doing anything, and I needed to get their attention. Jesus, you hit hard, surprisingly with your left hand."

She ignored his latter comment and rolled her eyes.

"I saw you roll your eyes, don't think I can't see you." He said, sounding like a mother scolding a child on manners.

"If someone locked us in here, I don't think they're going to let us out just because a fuse blew."

"You're just full of optimism, aren't you?"

Sora shrugged and looked down at the iPod in her hand; a moment later, the blue backlight came on, bathing the contours of her features in its soft glow.

Yamato stared at the vision for a long second before coming to his senses. He blurted the first thing that came to mind—besides how much he wanted to run his hand along her cheek and kiss her. "You're wasting my batteries."

She scoffed and ignored him like she usually did whenever he made irrational comments and slowly, using the light emanating from the iPod as a guide, made her way back to the couch. Yamato plopped down besides her with a deep sigh. He watched Sora play with the click wheel of his iPod, her eyes focused on the screen.

He really did want to kiss her.

Would it be wrong? Would she mind? It wasn't as if she never had a kiss before. Her gaze abruptly lifted and captured his. "Is something wrong?" she asked calmly.

He almost leaned forward from the pull of her stare, but stopped himself just in time. "Sora…" he drawled her name out, playing with the familiar syllables on his tongue.

"Yes…?" She answered, imitating his tone. Her eyes flickered back to the screen of the iPod.

"Are you going to give me back my twenty dollars?"

The vixen actually looked thoughtful for a moment before the effect was ruined by her cheeky grin. "Nope." Then, having apparently found a song to her liking, Sora picked up an earphone (this took a moment, seeing as she had to feel around blindly in the dark) and placed it in her left ear, leaving the other bare.

"Sora," he whispered again.

She glanced at him, her eyes a smoky color in the dark, only illuminated by a feeble screen. He licked his lips subconsciously, cursing her God given gorgeous eyes.

"Yes?" came her reply, but her attention had already returned to the screen.

"Do you want to go out with me?" he whispered, testing to see if he could trick her into saying yes. He felt like a fool, going back to primitive schoolboy tricks.

"Mmm?"

"Good enough," he thought and quickly shook his head. What in the world was he doing? Sora deserved better. They were both mature, reasonable people—even if they didn't act like it half the time. No time like the present, right? Their co-workers had obviously put some work into making sure the two of them would be alone together. Sora might not be able to take a hint, but Yamato sure could.

"About that dinner," he began, "Are we still on?" As soon as the words left his lips, Yamato felt like running into a corner and then slamming his head against the wall. His mind barely acknowledged his sweaty palms, staccato heartbeat, and labored breathing. The only thing he could concentrate on was the way her hair fell past her shoulders, or the way Sora's lashes were noticeably lush when she glanced down, or maybe the way her fingers moved so nimbly across the screen.

"What are you talking about? Of course we're still on. Did I say I was going somewhere?" she asked. A frown marred her pretty features as Sora tried to recall any previous engagements she had agreed to.

"No… I was just wondering."

"Yeah?" she pushed on, still mainly focused on the iPod.

"I mean, do you want to have a more… formal dinner?"

"Formal? It's not your birthday is it? I know when your birthday is."

"No!" Yamato ran his free hand through his hair in a vexed motion. "I, ah… how do you feel about eating… with me… alone…"

"Like we do every night?"

"Like… a… da—"

"Yama! You have the song from The Little Mermaid!" yelled Sora excitedly. She broke out in giggles, completely forgetting their sluggish conversation.

"It's a good song!" he defended. Yamato wasn't sure whether to be glad for the interruption or even further annoyed since he was finally getting around to the point.

"Mmm hmm, whatever helps you sleep at night."

"Right. As I was saying…" he said, having decided on being annoyed, "Would you like to go on a—"

"Oh, here," interrupted Sora, suddenly remembering the leather wallet she had stolen from him. She felt around the area on the couch to her left until her fingers came across the item. "You might want to take back your wallet. I'll be keeping the twenty as a finder's fee."

"What finder's fee? You're the one that took it in the first place." Yamato raised a brow as he snatched the wallet from her outstretched palm.

"But I still returned it to you in the end, didn't I? After I _found_ it."

"Are you ever going to let me finish my question?"

"Oops, sorry."

"Take off that earphone and turn around," he demanded. Surprisingly, she obliged. He almost wished she didn't when he realized he was suddenly receiving her undivided attention. Yamato cursed under his breath, he'd never felt _nervous_ asking a girl out before. Then again, Sora wasn't just a girl, and he was fairly certain he never felt like this about any of the others.

Yamato took in a deep breath and slowly let it out under Sora's curious watch. Her fingers began wandering on their own accord, traveling from the seat cushion to trace the cracks between. He reached out to place his right hand on her shoulder, successful in attracting her attention, but not ceasing her nomadic limbs. "Sora…"

She smiled. "We've gotten past that part, I think." Her fingers slipped inside the cushion cracks as the backlight of the iPod finally turned off, leaving them in complete darkness once again. For some reason, Sora wasn't scared this time, not even so much as startled as she waited for her best friend to complete his sentence. Whatever it was, she knew it was important.

"I'd uh… like to…" Just how in the world to you ask out your roommate and best friend?

She continued to smile encouragingly even in the dark as her fingers poked and prodded the cushions. Finally, her fingers found their way into a crack and they danced lightly over a smooth plastic surface.

"I think… that is uh… would you like to go—"

He faltered when Sora's expression dropped (his eyes adjusted to the dark much faster than hers), but soon realized to his dismay that she was no longer listening to him. Her head titled to stare blindly in the direction of her hand as her fingers clasped around the small oval object. Yamato turned on the backlight of his iPod and they watched as Sora's hand retracted from the cushion cracks.

It might've been dark and the lighting might've been pitiful, but the sparkle and shine of the plastic egg couldn't be denied. Its golden color shone brightly, reflected in their eyes as they stared at each other. Neither of them made a move, both of them not quite believing their absurd luck. A few moments later, Yamato was the first to move, and this time, he followed through on his first thought. He lunged forward and brought his lips crashing down on hers, his free hand roaming up and down her arm in comforting strokes.

Sora wasn't sure what was happening. One second she was still trying to understand the joy that broke out upon the discovery of the golden egg, and the next, she was trying to comprehend what was most possibly the greatest sensation she had ever experienced. Yamato's lips were rough and needy against her own, but soft at the same time. She could feel his unadulterated hunger and matched it surprisingly with her own. As her mind struggled to remember every single touch, her left arm snaked up to hook securely around his neck and digging her fingers into his treasured hair.

Yamato's tongue somehow found hers and their handcuffed hands entwined. Their breathing became hurried, urgent, the room filled with only sounds of their complete engrossment. His right hand traveled down her arm and waist, lingering on her thigh. Sora's body involuntarily shivered at his touch; it seemed as if his hand was burning through the very fabric of her skirt. He reached down and easily hoisted her leg over his lap, bringing her on top.

Sora's senses filled with the touch of Yamato, his hair, his irresistible sandalwood scent. Things were moving fast, very fast and neither of them were making a move for it to stop. In a distant corner of their mind, they had always known they were meant for each other; every touch and kiss all too familiar and yet, exhilaratingly new.

Her left hand tousled his blond locks one last time before trailing down to his jaw, tracing the strong distinctive feature with her thumb. Yamato's free hand made its way underneath Sora's skirt and lay just above her knee. So caught up in each other, none of them notice the room slowly grow brighter and brighter.

A bright flash and a click made the two tear themselves away.

"I am _so_ putting that picture up on the bulletin board," announced Nancy, standing a few feet away with a Kodak disposable camera. "Don't worry, I'll give you both a copy," she added when they began sending her glares.

"About time you two!" came an overly enthusiastic voice by the door of the bathroom. Yamato and Sora turned with horrified expressions and acknowledged Mr. Jung. He cleared his throat loudly, rolling back onto his heels and turning his head. "As overjoyed I am at your discovery, I must advise the two of you to behave yourselves properly."

Sora cursed and scrambled off of Yamato like a cat off a dog. Her cheeks flushed even darker than the healthy rose that matched their flushed lips.

Jung glanced around the bathroom, as if noticing the darkness of the room for the first time. "Hmm, I guess they weren't lying about the broken fuse, Nancy."

The blonde woman shrugged nonchalantly, "Oops."

Sora's eyes widened considerably and her eyes flashed back and forth between the two. "_You_ planned this?" she exclaimed

Yamato looked away nervously. Jung only chuckled and motioned for the occupants to exit the bathroom. "The hunt has ended, I'll advise the others. We'll meet in the conference room in a few minutes."

"You're _all_ in this?"

**§**

Yamato tenderly rubbed Sora's right wrist, which had been previously handcuffed to his left. Sora glared at the object lying nearby on the long glass table. The hunt had been called to an end and everyone was currently chatting away in the conference room, filling it with an air of excitement and a busy conversational buzz. Nancy sat to Sora's right, and still trying to salvage the remains of her dignity, she was glad to have her back turned to the woman. It seemed that no matter what Sora did, her pride was sure to suffer regardless, for in the next moment Jung walked into the room and promptly announced the success of the company's combined efforts.

She slinked down into the chair and brought both of her hands up to cover her darkening cheeks. She could hear Yamato laughing as people congratulated him, slapping their hands together in friendly handshakes. How could he be so comfortable knowing that their co-workers had all conspired together to mingle in their lives? She spun around in a second and narrowed her eyes at the blond. "You knew about this, didn't you?"

Yamato's hands shot up in defense. "I swear I didn't find out until this morning."

She groaned and brought up her right hand (ecstatic to gain control over the use of that hand) to rub the bridge of her nose. "You're not helping."

"I didn't want to interfere and ruin their hard work, you understand," he said, leaning forward to bring their foreheads together. His hand came to rest on Sora's right arm, bringing her hand down and then smoothing up to rub her upper arm in comfort.

She looked up at him through her thick lashes—seductive without even knowing it—and smiled. "I don't think that's the case, Yama." Her fire gold eyes burned right into him. "I think I get it now. You didn't interfere because you didn't want to; because you've felt like this since the beginning didn't you?" She watched gleefully as his ears began to turn a dark shade of red. Feeling a bit bolder even if they were in a room full of people who were hopefully, too involved in their own conversations to be remotely interested in what the new couple was doing, Sora tilted her head up and brought her lips millimeters away from Yamato's. "That's why you didn't date."

He said nothing, only stared at her rosy lips and felt his ears growing hotter and hotter. Leave it to Sora to realize things too late. Leave it to Sora to make him feel like a teenager with a crush. "What about you? Isn't that why you didn't date? Because just like me, every date you went on felt empty." She averted her eyes, suddenly interested in a button on his shirt.

"You lovebirds, get a room."

"We already have, we live together remember, Nancy?" replied Yamato cheekily.

Slowly straightening and moving away from him, Sora turned to see Nancy hovering over them, a wide grin plastered onto her face. The entire thing had been Nancy's idea, saying that she had finally gotten sick of waiting for the two to get together, or better yet, just get married "like Britney Spears in Las Vegas." The topic came up one day whilst chatting with Jung and they eagerly sat down to sort out the details and come up with a plan. The other co-workers were brought in on the plan soon enough and it turned out that everyone in the company were very excited to see Sora and Yamato together (though some confessed to fantasizing about one or the other).

Originally, the idea had just been to lock them together in the bathroom and letting them find the golden egg, since that had just been a fun way for Jung to give his best employees a raise, but when the couple showed up late for work on that fateful morning, they came up with a few alterations.

"I only suggested tying you two together as a consequence of your lateness, but Jung surprised us all by pulling out a pair of handcuffs," said Nancy. "I never expected this to work out so well!"

"All right, Nancy, I think you've done enough damage for a day." Yamato stood up, motioning for Sora to do the same. "I think it's time we left, we have to get started on our first date, you know," he said with a wink. Sora turned a new shade of crimson.

"Of course!" Nancy's hazel eyes lit up at the thought and she clasped her hands together dreamily. "You two have fun!"

"Oh we will. We have a lot of dating to catch up on." He waited for Sora to walk in front of him while he said their goodbyes and after a few steps, reached out to stop her. "I think we're going to have to move up our deadline." Yamato said; his breath ticklish against the sensitive skin under her ear.

She swallowed. "What deadline?"

"The deadline of the deal we made today."

"What deal?"

"If we both remain to be unwed by the time we reach the ever-so-ripe ages of 35, we agree to marry each other," he answered quickly, straight to the point.

"Oh," she furrowed her brows, trying hard to remember what had led to the discussion of their deal in the first place. "What were you saying about it again?"

He chuckled and brought his hand up against her lower back in a casual we're-more-than-just-friends gesture. "I was saying, I think the deadline needs to be changed."

Sora's skin color changed dramatically yet again from smooth ivory to striking scarlet as the meaning finally hit her. "I—uh…" she paused to close her eyes and take a deep breath. When she opened her eyes, she was smiling. "Not a bad idea, Ishida." She reached out to grasp the door handle while Yamato's eyes fell out of their sockets.

"Wait."

They turned at the demanding voice of their employer who bent over the glass conference table to pick up a forgotten mental object. He chucked the handcuffs straight into Yamato's awaiting hands.

"Keep them."

* * *

**AN:** 5:09am with no coffee! Yeah! I took a shower and was suddenly inspired to finish this one-shot that I've been working on for a while. I started it in the very beginning of September, but took a "break" for a while when I ran into a wall. Some parts though, still seem too hasty for my liking, but I hope it worked out decently. 

The idea for this one-shot just kind of came to me in Health class one morning. It was just for fun, but I was thinking to myself, Christmas and New Years are so popular, but what about the other holidays? So Easter popped into my mind and for the rest of the class (and a few more afterwards), I spent the time scratching on pieces of notepaper. (I was really devastated when I lost one of the sheets). The story was a little farfetched (okay, _really _farfetched), but it was just purely for everyone's entertainment; I know I had fun writing it!

The title is needless to say, less than the most creative thing, but I think it reflects the playfulness of the story, right? If not, it'll just warn readers of my extreme cheesiness, hoho!

I **really really** hope you guys enjoyed reading it. Don't forget to review!

**Merry Christmas** and **Happy New Year!**

May all your wishes come true and resolutions say resolute.

**P.S. **If anyone likes, you're free to come up with a new title for this story! I'm curious to see what people would come up with (seeing as I failed in that area), and if I like it enough, I might even use it! I'm thinking about rewriting this in the future, it sounds fun; if anyone has any suggestions or constructive criticism, it's always welcomed!


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